The Foundation of Belief
by moonwatcher13
Summary: Since the dawn of humanity we have believed in, and fought over, the existence of the divine. Yang refused to believe, unable to accept that any god worth praying to would allow a world like this, full of violence and despair. Turns out, she was only half right. (Goddess!Weiss, real-world polytheistic AU)
1. Blurring Reality

**This idea came from a tumblr prompt "What would happen if you kissed a statue at the museum, and it came to life," and a bit of insane modification thanks to the magic of alcohol.**

 **For people that read my other stuff: Patching the Scar's next chapter is about ¾ done, hoping to have it out by this weekend, along with a lot of rewriting of the previous chapters. Devils dice will be worked on as soon as Patching the Scars is completed.**

 **More story recommendations for those that are interested.**

 **Bodyshock and Deleted Scenes from Bodyshock by YinYangBangBang (mainly freezerburn, BiGender Yang, 120,000 words).**

 **Off the Radar By YinYangBangBang [Student!Ruby, Beast!Blake. Ladybug with hints of BlackSun and Tauradonna, 30,000 words]**

 **Wolf Love by suomynonAX (200,000+ words, WhiteRose with implied Bumblebee, Faunus Ruby) This one is WAY too good to pass up**

 **Lost and Found by Name Forsaken (50000+ words, Freezerburn)**

* * *

Museums were many things: bastions of the collective knowledge of mankind, safeguarding it against the perils and dangers of ignorance. Reminders of ancient civilizations long since lost in power, reduced to brief footnotes in history books by the inevitable march of time. An endless opportunity for children to be mystified by the skeletons of dinosaurs, previous rulers of the earth lost long ago. It was a wonderful place to be if you were in need of knowledge, entertainment, or a place to go on a date with your fact obsessed girlfriend.

It was not a good place to be a third wheel to an aggressively cute and annoyingly intelligent couple. Especially when that couple consisted of your best friend and sister, and _especially_ not when you were deeply attracted to your best friend.

And yet that is the situation Yang found herself in, dragging her feet through exhibit after exhibit, pointedly ignoring Ruby and Blake as often as possible. It didn't hurt that she had snuck her vodka filled flask past security, the guard so distracted by her generous endowments that he failed to notice the tiny plastic container shoved into the side of her jacket pocket.

But no matter how hard she tried she still caught glimpses of them out of the corner of her eyes, and her body had developed a list of reactions to each thing she saw. Every time Ruby and Blake's hands were intertwined, her fingernails dug into her flesh hard enough to make her bleed. Watching Ruby get a peck on the lips for answering Blake's question correctly made her jaw involuntarily clench hard enough that she would probably shatter all her teeth before noon. Seeing Blake's arms wrapped around her sister's body, one head resting on another as they read the various exhibit prompts, made Yang feel bitterly cold. A chill of any kind was a foreign sensation for the blonde, whose skin normally felt like it was on fire, no matter what the weather was outside. And while a mild chill normally felt pleasant, this one hurt down to the marrow of her bones, with only the burning fires of alcohol able to temporarily chase it away.

But the worst sight, the one that made her take a shot every time she gazed upon it in hope of erasing the images from her head, was seeing their eyes as they looked at each other. Because Blake, the person she had been in love with since they met in grade school, her one source of steady support no matter how difficult life became, was utterly and completely in love with Ruby. And Ruby, the little sister she had raised and taken care of since birth, the girl that she would die for in an instant, loved her right back.

So no matter how much it hurt Yang could do nothing but watch. Watch as the two people she cared about most grew closer by the day, sinking deeper and deeper into the shared happiness they both felt in each other's presence. As if she wasn't already torturing herself enough, her traitorous mind made her imagine their future 5, 10 years down the line. They would continue to date, probably get married, and maybe raise a family of their own. And all Yang could do was watch.

At least, that was what she was desperately telling herself. Part of her, a dark and, jealous part, wished that she could _be_ Ruby, no matter what was necessary, and was becoming increasingly desperate to make that wish a reality. It had been eating at her for months, tormenting her mind with images of her and Blake together and happy, haunting her dreams and leaving her with no escape. Thankfully, after months of silent suffering, she was finally gaining ground against her own weakness with the help of her other friends. They had a simple solution: steady consumption of copious amounts of alcohol, and several drunken failed attempts at one-night stands with girls who always looked amazingly similar to Blake.

Unable to look at them for another second Yang walked away, wandering at random until she found herself in the Viking exhibit, surrounded by wax figures of hairy, burley men wielding a variety of weapons. Thankfully the exhibit was empty, though she looked around several times to make sure. Isolated at last Yang walked around the exhibit at random, growing angrier at herself by the second, her head once again consumed with jealously. Dangerous thoughts were swirling around in her skull, threatening to drive her mad.

 _Out of all the people Blake had to end up dating, it had to be my sister. How the hell am I supposed to be happy for them when I can't stand being in the same room? I can't just cut off contact; both of them worry about me way too much. They won't let me ignore them again, not after what happened last time. What am I going to do? How is this fair?_

Unable to contain it any longer she screamed her frustration, her right hand coming up and punching a column hard enough to leave a small dent had it been made of plaster. Instead it was granite, and she kneeled to the ground, clutching her hand in pain.

A quiet voice suddenly rang out from behind her, making her jump to her feat, panic racing through her veins. She whirled around to confront the source and found herself looking at a short girl with pink, white and brown hair, dressed in an ice blue suit. The stranger paused for a second to look Yang over before repeating her question "Which one do you prefer?"

"Huh" Yang asked, confused by this strange, diminutive girl's question?

"Which one do you prefer? Which statue?" the girl clarified, gesturing behind Yang. Out of the corner of her eye Yang realized that she was standing in the mythology section of the Viking exhibit, in front of what appeared to be part of the Nordic Pantheon of gods. For some reason Yang decided to humor her, and turned around to regard the statues.

The tallest was a full size bust of a large, imposing old man, his features so detailed she wouldn't be surprised if he came to life then and there. Two statues flanked him, one on each side, both smaller in size but equally as detailed, depicting what Yang could only assume were his daughters. All three were clad in medieval armor; swords resting casually in their hands, their posture reminding Yang of victorious generals overseeing a one-sided battle with no survivors.

The older male and the taller girl's statues were flawless, as pristine as the day they were carved from stone. Their expressions however were cold, cruel, uncaring about all that stood in front of their gaze. But the smallest statue, depicting the younger female, was the exact opposite. Her statue was damaged in several areas. One eye was gone, as if someone had carved it straight out of the rock. Her sword was broken, the pointy end nowhere to be found, and her body had several cuts on it. Some were long, others deep, but the most damaging appeared to stretch from her upper shoulder to her opposite hip.

She spent a minute looking over each one then responded "It would help if I knew anything about them," her back still to the stranger.

"Read the plaques," was her frustrated response, her voice thick with exasperation.

Thankful that her back was turned, thus shielding her massive blush of embarrassment from view, Yang looked at the first plaque in front of the tallest statue. As far as museums went, it was rather lacking in useful information. It contained no names, just a short description of each statue.

The taller male's read: _Harbinger_. That was it; no description, no nothing. Underneath was a small note from the museum explaining that the rest of his portion was too weathered to be translatable, so there was no other information about him, except what could possibly be his name?

The other two statues had more descriptive plaques, though both lacked names. The taller girl's plaque read

 _"Changer of seasons, stealer of the sun._

 _Ruler of cold and the endless black_

 _To bring back the spring, pray for warmth and light_

 _Otherwise Winter will reign for another day."_

Beneath the rather weird saying was "Roughly translated version of goddess's prayer. The other plaque read

 _"Maiden of blizzards, mistress of ice._

 _Bringer of death in the everlasting night_

 _She'll freeze your bones, blood and heart_

 _Cast your soul into the everlasting White,"_

and beneath this one was the same prayer line. Yang re-read both plaques several times, partially to gain a firmer understanding of the poor translations, and partially because her multiple swigs of vodka were finally kicking in and turning the tiny writing blurry.

Eventually she came to a decision, and turned as she said "The shorter statue."

A small smirk grew on the shorter girls face, as if she had known that would be Yang's answer. She nodded, to herself as much as to Yang, then looked up and asked "Why?"

Yang thought about it for a second, since her answer had been completely instinctual. Why did she pick that statue? Shrugging, she responded "I don't know anything about that big guy" gesturing with one thumb to the granite male before her "so he's out. And the older girl is almost too….prefect. There are no flaws, no imperfections. Even gods have issues sometimes." _And the other statue somehow looks…..pained, as if their inspiration was being hurt even as they were carving her likeness_ she thought, keeping the last reason to herself.

The stranger's smirk grew into a full blown smile, impeccably white teeth and all, but all she said was "I see. So, are you going to pray to her or what?"

Yang was thrown for a moment by the odd question, eventually choking out "How and why would I even bother doing that?"

"The how is simple. You simply repeat the prayer, ask of the statue whatever it is you want, then kiss the statue. As for why..."

"Woah, woah, woah, I have to kiss the statue? Why?"

"Because that's how it works" The shorter girl responded, her eyes bright with mischief. "As for why, you look like a person in need of some guidance. What better way than by seeking the infinite wisdom of the divine?"

 _Ok, she officially went from slightly weird to full blown religious nutter_ Yang thought, now uneasily regarding the girl standing before her. If she had been sober she probably would have walked out of the room then and there. But her buzz was almost at the point of full blown intoxication, lowering her stupid decisions threshold just enough to be willing to try something as weird as this.

Yang walked up to the statue, said the weird prayer, but her mind went blank as she leaned in to kiss the statue on the lips. _I know what I want, I want to be dating Blake. To hold her hand, to feel her lips on mine, her hands running all over my body, hearing her heart beat…._

"I want Blake and Ruby to be happy" she whispered to the statue, right before her lips gently pressed against the cold granite. She leaned back after a second, a single tear falling down her cheek. Because as painful as it was to accept, that was the best she could hope for from reality. That Blake was happy, and if Ruby was the one that could make her happiest, then she had to learn to live with it. No matter how much it hurt, or how much she wished that things were different.

Feeling momentarily at peace, Yang turned around to say "Thank you," only to find that the room was once again empty. She looked around a few times, wondering where the stranger had gone, before her phone blared loudly, Pyrrha's ringtone echoing through the empty room.

" _Hey Yang, we still on for tonight at Juniors_?" Pyrrha, her friend and occasional sparring partner, asked?

"You know it" Yang replied cheerily, pausing for a second as Pyrrha cheered, before asking "Is Mercury actually coming this time?"

 _"He better be"_ Pyrrha answered, frustration bleeding through the phone line. Mercury had missed their last few weekly get togethers often by canceling at the last minute. He had been blaming some mysterious girlfriend, and had refused to try to bring her along no matter how much Pyrrha and Yang pestered him about her. Until tonight

"Remember our bet?" Yang asked cheekily, her trademark smirk growing on her face.

 _"Yes"_ Pyrrha sighed, afraid of the consequences of losing.

"Good. See you at 9." Yang answered before hanging up, now looking forward to tonight's events rather than grudgingly tolerating them like she had been the last few weeks. After one more look around, she walked out of the museum exhibit, her stride confident, purposeful and a little wobbly, reminding her that she should probably quit day drinking while she had the chance.

* * *

 _Either someone buried me in a sand grave, or I forgot to drink water last night._ Yang thought, opening her eyes for a second before the glare of daylight forced her to shut them again. She had been through a few bad hangovers before, but nothing like this. Her body ached like she had been hit by a freight train going at the speed of a harrier jet, then rode down Mt. Everest by the world's fattest yeti. Her limbs were so heavy she briefly wondered if someone had replaced her bones with concrete, then staked her to the bed for good measure. The headache was so overwhelming she half expected to find an axe embedded in her skull. But the thirst was by far the worst. _It's like someone compressed the entire Sahara desert, mixed in all the salt in the world for good measure, and then shoved the entire thing into my mouth._

If someone had offered to kill Yang at that moment she would have screamed at them to do it, had she been capable of speech. Instead a small whimper of pain escaped her lips as she tried, unsuccessfully, to force herself to get up. After about 5 minutes of lying there, groaning in increasing amounts of pain as her body fully woke up, Yang finally felt alive enough to open her eyes. She did so slowly, wary of the dangers of allowing sunlight unrestricted access to her corneas.

After fully opening her eyes fully she blinked a few times, her brain slowly getting her bearings. She was back at her apartment, lying in her bed, though strangely enough the blankets had _not_ been thrown off the bed in a hangover induced nightmare, which was odd. Looking to one side, then the other, she saw her salvation. A tall glass of ice water, fogged over with condensation, sat on her nightstand. Yang blinked to make sure it was real, and thankfully it was still there when she opened her eyes, faintly hovering in the morning light. Beside it sat a pair of ibuprofen pills, the sight of which was so beautiful Yang felt her body shiver in delight.

The heaviness in her limbs entirely forgotten, Yang grabbed for the glass of water like a sinner in need of salvation. She chugged half of it down in one gulp, shoved the pills into her mouth, then swallowed the rest of the ice cold liquid, her symptoms already feeling better. _I'm so happy I could cry. Drunk me did something nice for sober me for once. I feel so….sick, I feel REALLY sick._

Knowing the telltale signs of impending projectile vomiting, Yang raced out of her room, barely making it into the bathroom. Her head just barely angled for the toilet before she felt the first round of puke rise out of her throat. For almost an entire minute she retched, her body emptying itself of the various toxins she had forced it to endure for the entire night. She momentarily felt the nausea lessen and leaned back for a second, praying that her hair hadn't gotten any puke in it.

Only to feel a hand stop her movement, keeping her body firmly hunched over the toilet. She became vaguely aware of another hand holding her hair back before she felt more puke rising as her stomach started round two. After another minute she was finally empty and feeling slightly better overall, despite her stomach being squeezed like a tube of toothpaste.

She felt the hand release her hair as a voice called out "coffee in the kitchen," followed by a pair of feet as she tromped off. The sounds of metal impacting against the wooden floor brought little tremors of pain to Yang's skull, her headache not entirely gone despite her recent cleansing session. Eventually she forced herself to stand and after quickly brushing her teeth to get rid of the puke taste. Not even bothering to check her appearance she stumbled into the kitchen, only to almost fall over in shock.

 _I must have won the lottery_ Yang thought, _because I am officially the luckiest woman alive_. Sitting in her kitchen, casually sipping a cup of coffee, was perhaps the most beautiful woman she had ever seen. Snow white hair, held back by an intricately tied French braid, framed the clearest, coldest pair of ice blue eyes Yang had ever seen. Her skin was flawless: as pale as freshly fallen snow, the barest hint of a blush gracing both of her cheeks. The only thing marring this otherwise perfect image was a scar running vertically down one of her eyes.

After almost a minute of staring Yang forced her gaze away and noticed that the woman was wearing what looked to be some kind of armor. The entire body was encased in various bits of a dark grey metal, a large white snowflake emblazoned on her chest. At her right hip hung a long, thin sword that Yang assumed was some kind of rapier, while several knives were strapped to various places across the rest of her body.

 _Ok, apparently I picked up a cosplayer last night,_ Yang thought _. Not even close to the weirdest person I've hit on, but definitely the hottest._ Yang opened her mouth to speak but the stranger held up her hand, halting her before she could get a word out, before pointing to a waiting cup of coffee. Once again supremely grateful that the beauty sitting before her was so considerate, Yang grabbed the cup and sat at the table, willing to wait for the stranger to be ready to talk.

Taking a sip of coffee, her happy smile instantly morphed into a grimace. The coffee was as cold as ice. The stranger noticed her grimace and asked "What?"

"I hate cold coffee," was Yang's instant response, not even considering that it might hurt the other woman's feelings. Her fears were groundless however, as she only muttered "Figures" before turning back to the window, enjoying the view from Yang's apartment. Yang put the coffee into the microwave to heat up, grabbing it just before the microwave beeped. Now clutching the steaming cup she returned to table, resisting the urge to fidget nervously in her seat, lost as to how she should proceed.

Her blackout from hell had begun the moment she lost the bet to Pyrrha, since Mercury did actually have a girlfriend, a stunningly attractive beauty by the name of Cinder Fall. Thus Yang had to take a shot for every year that separated Mercury and Cinder, and then double the amount because of how attractive she was, which brought the count well into the double digit range. That was her last memory of the night, meaning Yang had no idea who the person in front of her even was, much less if they had done anything.

Yang endured the tense, uncomfortable atmosphere for almost a minute before she asked "So uh, did we do anything last night?"

The stranger sighed heavily, muttering "finally" before saying "Oh yeah, we did plenty. You stumbled in here, fell flat on the floor and didn't move. After I made sure you weren't dead I somehow managed to drag your heavy ass to bed, all the while enduring you drooling all over me. Then I spent the night awake, watching you to make sure you didn't die from fever or alcohol poisoning." Her tone was so venomous Yang was half convinced the girl had been drinking poison. Combined with the daggers the other girl was glaring at her, she was half surprised she didn't spontaneously combust on the spot.

After a moment to process, Yang swallowed her fears and asked "So then we didn't…"

"If you're asking whether or not we had sex, the answer is no," the white haired woman responded, not even bothering to look at her as she said it. Under her breath, almost too quiet for Yang to hear, she said "though I wouldn't have minded."

Yang leaned back into her chair, breathing a sigh of relief, partially because she hadn't wasted her first time on a drunken frenzy that she couldn't remember, but mostly because she still had her virginity at all. A small part of her, an endlessly hopeful part that refused to die no matter how much Yang drank, was still holding out hope that her first time was going to be with Blake. Despite the mounting evidence to the contrary.

 _On the other hand,_ _I wonder what it would be like to get freaky with her_ Yang thought, once again looking at the girl sitting across from her. The more she gazed, the more she realized that she was the exact opposite of Blake. Hair, skin, even their eye color was about as different as you could possibly get. One a dark beauty, the other a pale enchantress, both equally enticing. Polar opposites, yet Yang found both of them almost equally attractive. _Maybe I have a thing for the extreme ends of the spectrum?_

The only thing apparently similar about them was their outward personalities: brittle, with an isolation that bordered on arrogance. Even now the girl remained silent, prompting Yang to ask "Wait, fever? I had a fever?"

"You had a fever" the stranger said slowly, as is speaking to a particularly stupid child, before continuing "And by the looks of it you still have one now."

 _But I feel fine temperature wise_ Yang thought, putting a hand to her forehead. Sure enough she was running at her usual heat level, somewhere between a furnace and a miniature sun. Without warning she grabbed the other girls hand and dragged it to her forehead, saying "See I'm not actually."

She was interrupted by the girls other hand coming straight at her face, making contact with a loud *slap,* followed by her attacker screaming "Unhand me, you brute."

Yang let the other girl's hand go, cradling the side of her face. It stung terribly, and based on prior experience was probably going to start swelling up like a balloon very soon. "Ok, no touching. Got it"

The shorter girl looked at her for a moment, her face expressionless, before she responded "Just give me some warning next time." As she said this her hand was slowly moving towards Yang's face, coming to rest against her forehead again. Her touch was feather light, fingertips barely touching the surface of her skin. The girls hand was freezing, the iciness made even more prominent by Yang's already hot body temperature, but all Yang could do was close her eyes and gently moan in delight. The five points of contact were slowly making her headache, which had been worsened by the slap, vanish. She unconsciously leaned forward until the girl's entire hand was pressed against her forehead, the coldness of her skin a soothing balm against her hangover pain.

After a few seconds of bliss the girl withdrew her hand, which brought back some of the headache pain, though considerably less than before. Yang opened her eyes to find the white haired girl regarding her, her face struggling to hold back a frown.

Now just remembering that she knew nothing about this girl, Yang rubbed the back of her neck in embarrassment before saying "I'm really sorry, but I kind of don't remember your name," her eyes downcast as she spoke.

After a few seconds she looked back up to see the other girl's head tilted to one side, a curious expression on her face. After a moment she said "That's because I never told you. My name is Weiss."

"Oh, ok. Well I'm…" Yang tried to say, but was cut off by the other girl saying "Yang, I know. We met before."

"We did? Sorry, but I don't really remember. Last night is kind of a blur."

Weiss smacked her forehead with her hand, angrily muttering several phrases too softly for Yang to hear but the language did not sound like English. After a moment she raised her head and said "We met yesterday, at the museum. You kissed me." At she said the last part a light blush erupted on her cheeks while Yang was struggling to understand. The entire time she had been at the museum, the only people she had seen kissing each other were Blake and Ruby. Well she had kissed the statue….

Looking at Weiss once more, Yang stopped breathing. The girl in front of her was almost a dead ringer to that statue Yang had kissed yesterday. _Ok. So either the statue came to life, which is completely insane, or Weiss has been stalking me and saw me kiss the statue_ Yang thought. Now fully awake and on guard, Yang once again regarded the total stranger still sitting in front of her with a light blush on her face. _I just have to keep her talking for a little longer, excuse myself to the bathroom, and call the cops._

"Ok, so what, you're the statue from the museum and I brought you to life?" Yang asked, trying to keep her voice as steady as possible.

"No, I was simply residing inside the statue. But after you uh... kissed me, I became bound to you instead of the statue," Weiss said, her face and tone completely serious.

 _I'm sitting across from a total fucking psycho_ Yang thought. Now desperately trying to slowly edge her way towards the nearest frying pan or sharp object, the only thing on her mind was getting out of this situation with all her organs intact. In hopes of distracting Weiss, if that was her real name, Yang said "So, you're a ghost or something?"

Still completely serious, which revealed the true depths of her insanity; Weiss said "I am Weiss, goddess of the Nordic Pantheon, mistress of Ice and Snow."

Yang almost fell out of her chair from sheer incredulity. She had met some weird people before, but this made all of them seem completely sane by comparison. "Really, you're a goddess. Alright then, fucking prove it." Yang nearly screamed.

Weiss's face morphed into an expression of anger, but she said nothing. Instead one of her fingers reached out and lightly touched Yang's coffee cup. The entire cup instantly froze, coffee and all. Weiss casually knocked it off the table, where the entire thing shattered into a thousand tiny pieces, along with Yang's sanity.

Yang knew what she had just seen. Her eyes, now stretched so wide they had to be as big as dinner plates, had transmitted the scene before her and sent the information to her brain, same as always. But her brain was unable to process the information it was being sent, or maintain a single thought besides _holy shit, holy shit_. She stood up and backed as far away from Weiss as she could get, her back hitting one of the countertops by the sink.

Weiss stood up and wordlessly walked towards the sink, turning the hot water on full blast. She waited for almost a minute for the water to properly warm up, steam gently rising up by the end. Yang silently watched her the entire time, unable to take her eyes off of Weiss, a silent observer to what she was going to do next.

Weiss touched one finger to the stream of scalding water coming out of the sink. The stream of water instantly froze, turning into a massive icicle that stretched from the faucet to the bottom of the sink. She shut the hot water off and walked in front of Yang, standing far too close for comfort.

Weiss raised both of her hand up, slowly reaching for Yang's face. _She's going to freeze me solid_ Yang thought. She knew she should run, knock her hands away, but her body was paralyzed by shock and fear. All she could do was shut her eyes, praying that her death would come swiftly.

Instead, she felt one gently touch her cheek while the other came to rest on her forehead, two point of cooling bliss on her hot skin. The pain of her headache and the girl's previous slap receded, fading to nothingness in a matter of seconds. Yang opened her eyes to see Weiss standing before her, and for the first time she realized how short Weiss actually was. The top of her head barely came up to Yang's collarbone.

Weiss regarded Yang for a second, her expression cold and serious, before a comforting smile appeared on her face. She stared straight into Yang's eyes and said "My name is Weiss, mistress of all ice and snow. Minor goddess of the Nordic Pantheon, daughter of Harbinger, lieutenant of Winter, she who brings the cold death. And you, Yang Xiao-Long, are my new chief priestess."

By the time she finished talking Yang's mind had gone almost entirely blank, her brain unable to comprehend a single thing she had been told, except for one question. She looked back at Weiss, and asked "For how long?"

The smile on Weiss's face never faltered, but her eyes told another story. Two pools of endless pain and soul-crushing sadness, they instinctively made Yang want to reach out and hug the smaller girl, who looked like she was about to break down sobbing.

Instead she remained frozen, unmoving as Weiss replied "Until one of us is claimed by Death's gentle embrace."

* * *

 **This may have horrendously spiraled out of my control…..**

 **Feedback is always appreciated, good, bad or anything in between. Hope you guys enjoyed!**


	2. Roommate Agreement

**The sheer amount of positive feedback this fic got for just the FIRST CHAPTER is amazing thank you all so much!**

 **Since it's November, I'm going to try to do the whole 50,000 words written in a month thing, which will be split between this fic and two others. So hopefully the updates will be coming in fairly steadily**

* * *

The gym was mostly empty, which was standard for a Sunday morning on a college campus. Most of the students were still sleeping off the lingering effects of hangovers or too many sleepless nights during the week. So except for a few hardcore weightlifters, the first floor was entirely empty, with a single treadmill in use on the upper level. Its current user, blonde hair tied back into a ponytail and sweat pouring down her face in rivulets, was having a miserable experience. The combination of dehydration and head pain caused by hangovers made running a bad idea, but Yang didn't care. She needed to clear her head, organize her thoughts, and try to find some way to deal with the insane situation she found herself in. That and she wanted to get her workout of the way now so she could relax later.

For all her obvious physical prowess, Yang did not love to exercise. To her it was always a chore, on the same level of tedium as doing laundry: boring but necessary. What she loved to do was fight, to test her strength and skills against an opponent, to push herself to her limits and beyond. The rush she felt after a particularly difficult bout, whether or not she actually won, was one of the few times she truly felt alive.

But she had to stay in shape if she wanted to fight, a lesson Pyrrha had pounded into her skull several months ago. Yang had been skipping on her training and Pyrrha had decided to remind her why that was a terrible idea. After losing to her a dozen times in a row, most of the fights having been less than a few minutes long, Yang had been left breathless, bruised and humiliated. Her legs hurt so badly she had been unable to properly stand, so she had remained on the ground, tears of pain, anger and shame barely kept under control. Pyrrha had hammered the defeat home by picking her up, despite Yang being 20 pounds heavier, and carrying her all the way to the infirmary despite her protests.

The mere memory of the humiliation made Yang increase her speed, her legs crying out in protest. Yang ignored them and kept running, pushing herself harder and harder, desperately trying to outrun everything that was going wrong in her life. Hoping that the physical pain would give her enough mental clarity to come up with a solution to any of her problems, but sadly her brain had none. Instead it cycled through her seemingly endless list of memorized pump-up songs, giving her the motivation to keep going.

By the time her 10 mile run was done Yang was drained physically and mentally, her sports bra and workout shorts soaked with perspiration. Her body had given up two miles to go and she had forced herself to keep going on sheer willpower alone, mentally forcing her arms to keep pumping. The walk back to her dorm was a fogged haze in her memory banks, much like the previous night, fueled by exhaustion instead of alcohol. One second she was leaving the gym, the next she was walking into her apartment with no connecting memory in between.

The second she walked in the door her mind target locked on one thing: the couch. It was a slightly used leather three seater her uncle had given her when she moved in, and it was singing a siren's song, trying to lure Yang in with its incredible softness. In her exhausted state Yang was unable to resist and without a hint of elegance flopped herself onto the cushions, her tall form barely fitting between the armrests on both sides. Lightly breathing as the tension drained out of her body, Yang closed her eyes, hoping to get a few hours rest before starting on her remaining homework.

Clearly fate had other ideas, for a few seconds later she felt a hand, made of what felt like pure ice, latch onto the back of her neck as another grabbed at her wrist. The cold instantly drove the exhaustion from her limbs as she bolted upright, her confused mind panicking at the sudden frozen assault.

Only to find Weiss standing over her, a look of barely restrained fury on her face. _I was REALLY hoping I had just imagined her_ Yang thought, a small sigh escaping her lips. Working her body into a sitting position, Yang took a deep breath and asked "What's up?"

"What's up? WHAT'S UP? That's all you have to say after you just walked out of here without a word? No explanation, no good bye, not even an acknowledgement that I exist? What, were you raised in a cave?" Weiss yelled, her anger exploding outward.

Yang, unphased by her outburst, merely responded "Yep" and flopped back onto the couch, face up this time, a second later asking "What do you want?"

Looking at Weiss's face proved to be a mistake, as Yang had to use all of her willpower to stop herself from laughing. Weiss's expression was that of a person that was a second from exploding but knew that it would do no good, so forcing themselves to calm down was the only available option. Her face, which at this point was the bright red, a sure signal of her barely controlled anger, slowly returned to her more normal pale white.

Weiss let out a heavy sigh, then calmly said "Look, we need to talk about your new position and the responsibilities that it entails. So can you please focus for five minutes and act like a normal, rational human being."

Yang, unable to resist, said "I didn't hear a please there."

Weiss's looked like she had just swallowed a bug: disgusted and angry in equal measures. Her jaw clenched so tight Yang was sure she could hear her jawbone crack, and through gritted teeth she managed to say "Please"

"Ok" Yang replied, prompting Weiss to back up several steps as Yang swung her feet onto the floor. She stood up and started stretching her tired muscles, hoping to work out some of the kinks before exhaustion fully set in. After a moment she noticed Weiss staring, her eyes focused directly on Yang's well-muscled arms. Unable to stop herself, Yang smirked and asked "Like what you see?"

For a moment Weiss didn't respond, her face scrunched in concentration as Yang wondered what she was going to do next. And then she smiled at Yang. Not a normal smile, full or mirth and warmth, or a cold and cruel smile promising pain. This was a smile that made Weiss look like a cat that had just caught a mouse, a tormentor that was going to play with her food before she ate it. _Time for some payback_ Weiss thought.

She slowly walked towards Yang, her smile growing wider by the second, morphing into a full on seductive grin of an expert temptress. She halted right in front of Yang, their bodies only inches apart, and slowly ran her hand along Yang's right arm, taking her time to squeeze every few seconds and admire the blondes physique. Yang, for her part, could do nothing but watch, mystified by the scene playing out before her.

Pausing at Yan's bicep Weiss gave it a generous squeeze, her hand lingering for far longer than a few seconds, as she said "A woman." She paused, then moved to Yang's other arm and repeated her ministrations, before continuing "Muscled like a man." Pausing once again she moved her hand to Yang's chest and began running a finger down her abs. Her finger moved with a torturous slowness, the sensation driving Yang mad. Like before her touch was as cold as ice, but Yang found herself holding back a moan of delight, almost unable to stop the sound from escaping her lips.

Sensing her chance, Weiss moved forward till their bodies were touching, flush against each other. Yang felt her back touch the wall and dimly realized that she had been backed into a corner without noticing, Weiss pursuing her the whole way. Moving in for the kill Weiss stood on her toes, bringing her head flush with Yang's ear and said "It's quite an _attractive_ combination," before gently nipping at Yang's ear.

By this point Yang was in danger of overheating, her body unable to handle Weiss's advances. Part of her was praying that Weiss would stop, and the rest of her was praying that Weiss _wouldn't._ Her mind and body were locked in a fierce struggle, part of her wanting to push her away and part of her wanting to wrap the smaller girl in her arms and kiss her senseless.

But once again Weiss surprised her by stepping back, taking the time to admire her handiwork. Yang had been reduced to an excited, aroused mess against the wall. Her body was clearly aroused; dilated pupils, a bright red blush and short, breathless pants all screamed arousal to Weiss's expert gaze. She now had the blonde's full and undivided attention, her eyes heavily clouded with desire.

Satisfied with her teasing, Weiss turned away from Yang and walked back towards the kitchen. Without turning around she called out "Now that you're actually listening to me, go get yourself cleaned up. We have things to discuss." Almost as an afterthought she added "If I was you, I'd take a nice cold shower. It might help with that fever you just developed."

Yang mechanically walked into the bathroom, her mind and body completely overwhelmed by what had just happened. She had no idea what was going on, or what Weiss was talking about. But once look in the mirror and she understood. Her entire face was a bright burning red, a blush that extended down to the edge of her neck and collarbone. Putting a hand on her forehead she realized what Weiss meant by the fever: she was way hotter then normal, her body temperature akin to a steam boiler, thanks to the level of arousal that was now thrumming through every inch of her.

She turned the ice water on full blast, ripping her sweaty clothes off in a flash. As she stepped into the shower her mind gave her one terrifying realization to agonize over: not once when Weiss was messing with her had she even thought about Blake, or wished Blake was the one teasing her instead of Weiss, or anything else of the same variety. She might as well not have existed, that was how fixated Yang had been on Weiss.

The frigid waters initially shocked her, but she forced herself to stand and endure it for almost a minute. Her body now properly cooled down she turned the water to hot and started the lengthy process of washing up. As she did so, her thoughts were not on the task at hand, but focused firmly on her Weiss. On how she had so perfectly teased Yang and had clearly enjoyed it every step of the way. For the first time Yang fully realized just how interesting and problematic her life could become.

Once fully showered and dressed, Yang checked her phone and noticed she had a text from Pyrrha asking if she wanted to go grocery shopping later. Unfortunately her fridge had committed mutiny and died on her last week, so until she bought a replacement grocery shopping was pointless. Sighing she grabbed one of her hundreds of water bottles and chugged it, still mildly dehydrated from her workout.

Thirst now sated she walked into the kitchen to find Weiss seated at the table, her eyes struggling to stay open as she held her head up with one hand. She looked to be about five seconds from passing out and smashing her pretty little head into the cup of water in front of her. Sitting across from her, Yang asked "Ok, so what did you want to talk about?"

Weiss, who had clearly been on the verge of sleeping, _if gods can sleep_ Yang thought, flinched at the noise before becoming fully alert. She took a moment to compose herself. "I need you to do something for me, ok?" At Yang's nod, she continued. "Watch this cup."

Normally Yang wouldn't have played along with something this weird, but yesterday's events had taught her better. So she focused on the cup, watched the clear water inside it. Silence descended on the room, only broken by the sounds of breathing coming from its current occupants. After almost a minute of continual observation, nothing happened, much to Yang's frustration. The water remained water.

Patience wearing thin, Yang looked up and asked "Alright, what am I supposed to be watching? Nothing happened."

"Exactly, nothing happened." Weiss responded. "I'm running out of energy, to the point I can't even freeze a cup of water. So I need you to-"

"Wait, hold up. Why didn't you just say that in the first place?"

"Because I was trying to prove a point, you idiot. Now would you stop talking and-"

"No" Yang said firmly, pushing her chair out as she stood up. She started to turn and walk away, only to be stopped by the feeling of Weiss's hand grabbing her arm. At that moment Yang realized something was wrong, because Weiss's hands did not have the comforting icy chill that had been present yesterday.

Instead they were warm, uncomfortably warm. Yang turned back around and focused her attention on Weiss. What she saw worried her. The goddess's skin was no longer a pale white; instead it was more ashen grey and tinged with hints of pink and red. Her breathing was coming in short pants and sweat was beginning to form on her face, as if she was burning up. Her still present grip on Yang's arm was weak, as if it was taking all her strength to hold on.

Yang walked over towards Weiss, the shorter woman's grip slacking but never fully releasing her arm. She put one hand on the goddess's forehead, the burning sensation emanating from sweat soaked flesh confirming that Weiss was indeed burning up. _It's almost like she's sick_ Yang thought. _But can goddesses even get sick?_

"Are you ok?" Yang asked, concern for Weiss evident in her voice.

"No I am not ok, I'm an ice goddess with a fever. What could possibly make you think that I was ok, why would you even bother asking… no. Just stop asking questions and pray for me."

"Huh" Yang replied, now having no clue what Weiss was asking.

"Just…just do what you did at the museum." Weiss screeched, the anger and strength in her voice a sharp contrast against her still weakening grip against Yang's arm. It appeared that whatever was affecting her, it was getting worse. Her hand was now burning against Yang's flesh, hot enough that a part of the blonde's mind not focused on Weiss was worried about her arm getting burned. Sweat was pouring off the white-haired goddess in rivulets, and her eyes were glazing over with exhaustion.

Yang put one hand on the small of her back to support her as she cast her mind back to the previous day, remembering the chant that had brought so much trouble crashing down on her head.

Taking a deep breath, she shakily recited " _Maiden of blizzards, mistress of ice. Bringer of death in the everlasting night. She'll freeze your bones, blood and heart. Cast your soul into the everlasting white_." The instant the last syllable escaped her lips she looked over at Weiss, expecting to see the fever-ridden woman as sick and weak as ever.

Instead Weiss looked the picture of health; her skin was once again pale white, without a trace of fever. Her grip, now cold against Yang's burning hot flesh, was crushing Yang's arm enough to be more than a little painful.

She righted herself, drawing to her full height, and fixed the blonde with an angry glare. "Next time I tell you to do something, just do it."

Yang, unable to comprehend how Weiss could have gotten better so quickly, whispered "But….how?"

"I'm a goddess" Weiss responded, as if that explained everything. "Now, sit down we have to..."

"NO." Yang shouted, her sorrow quickly morphing into anger, "Not until you tell me what the hell just happened. How did you go from sick as shit to perfectly fine in a few seconds?"

Weiss glared at her angrily and said "I was getting to that. Now, Sit, Down." Her eyes were hard and cold, unwilling to broker any sort of argument. Yang locked her gaze with Weiss and defiantly remained standing, both to spite Weiss and because she refused to be ordered around like that in her own apartment.

Eventually Weiss blinked, and after a moment said "Fine, sit down. Please." Yang slowly lowered herself into the seat across from her, still glaring at Weiss, who was shifting around in her chair. Yang's furniture was cheap, though still high quality by college student standards, so it was a battle lost before it even began.

Giving up, Weiss said "As I was trying to tell you, because I'm a goddess I have different needs then you mortals do. For example, I don't need to eat." The look of incredulity on Yang's face made Weiss elaborate "I can eat, but I don't have to. Instead, I gain nourishment from prayer. The more prayers that are directed to me, the more energy I have and the stronger I get. Conversely, without prayers we grow weaker. And since you hadn't prayed for me since yesterday, I was almost out of energy. Does any of this not make sense?"

Yang took a moment to process, then responded "Normally I'd call you crazy, but after watching your little icicle showcase, crazy seems normal right now. One question though; what would have happened if I didn't remember the words to your prayer?"

"The wording itself is irrelevant, it's just a saying you mortals came up with and started attributing to me. I don't even like it." Weiss grunted. "What matters is that you are thinking of me when you pray and that your prayers are selfless. You should probably.."

"Whoa, slow down." Yang interrupted "What do you mean by selfless? Like I should pray for world peace or something?"

Weiss smacked herself in the head, letting out a load groan as her hand was dragged down her face. "No, it has to be something that you believe. Yesterday you wished for the happiness of others, and you truly wanted it. Today you truly wished for me to get better. So things like that."

Weiss paused for a moment, her brow furrowed in thought, before she continued "Basically it has to be for the betterment of someone else's life. Like you wish for a friend to get better if they're sick, or for a co-worker's baby to be born healthy. It just can't be something that in any way benefits you. I don't get energy from those kinds of thoughts. Does that make sense?"

Yang nodded, pretty sure she had a clear grasp of what Weiss was telling her. "So just to clarify, I don't have to say that weird chant? Or anything at all?"

"You don't have to, but it does help to say something. It makes it much easier to focus on what you are asking for. As for the chant, you can use whatever chant you want. Any other questions"

 _Oh I'm going to abuse the shit out of that_ Yang thought, already starting to think of several particularly insulting chants she could attribute to the icy goddess. _As for information_ … "Two more things I need to know. How often should I pray, and can I expect any of these prayers to actually be answered?"

"At least once a day" Weiss instantly responded "otherwise I might end up like that again, or worse. As for granting prayers, if I have enough power and I judge the prayer worthy of answering, then yes. But as you can probably guess, I barely have enough energy to maintain the _acilgicel,"_ Weiss muttered quietly, her tone bitter and angry.

"Well, what's in it for me?" Yang asked, arms crossing over her chest.

Weiss stared at Yang in complete and utter confusion, unable to comprehend Yang's question. "What do you mean what's in it for you? You're my chief priestess; it's your job to pray to me."

"A job I didn't sign up for or agree to." Yang retorted "I'll pray for you once a day at least, goddess or not I'm not going to put you through that again, but if you want me to do it more then that I need a reason."

As yang was talking Weiss's expression grew angrier by the second. By the time she was done her eyes had turned as cold and hard as ice. She stood, now taller than the still seated Yang, and angrily shouted "You dare to demand something of me? The Great Weiss Schnee? I should freeze you solid for daring to be so insolent."

"But you need me" Yang smugly pointed out. "So unless you want to remain an empty, powerless shell of your former self forever, I suggest you sit back down and do what I want."

If anything Weiss grew even angrier, and Yang could tell that she wanted nothing more at that moment more than to make good on her threat. But even consumed by rage she knew that would be a mistake, so eventually she sat back down, raged etched into every line and crease of her face. Through gritted teeth she grunted "What do you want?"

"Hmmm, let me think. Can you keep something at a constant temperature for a long period of time?" Yang asked, needing information on Weiss's powers if her plan was to work.

"Yes" Weiss responded testily, "Why does that matter in the slightest?"

"Welllllll" Yang drawled "My fridge is broken, and I can't afford to replace it. But with you here, I.."

"Wait, what's a fridge?" Weiss asked, now thoroughly confused as to what Yang was asking her to do.

"It's an appliance" At Weiss's continued lack of understanding, Yang continued "It a big box shaped storage that keeps food cold."

For a moment Weiss was rendered speechless, then she slowly asked "You're using me, the goddess of ice and snow, as a food preserver?" Her tone was hesitant, as if she couldn't believe the words that were coming out of Yang's mouth.

"Yep" Yang replied, popping the p at the end.

For a moment, nothing happened. Then Weiss's entire body turned the purest white as the air around Yang suddenly changed. It went from pleasantly worm to frigid cold in an instant, a cold so deep and invasive that Yang could feel it in her lungs. It radiated out in waves from Weiss, whose hands were clenched into fists, no doubt imagining how good it would feel to wrap them around Yang's neck. But in the end, she had no other option but to accept.

She angrily stood, knocking over the chair as she did, and slammed her hands onto the table as she shouted "Fine, but you're praying at least 6 times a day from now on so I have enough power for your _bacruat_ request. And if you forget even once, I'm freezing every drop of blood in your body."

"You got it, Ice Queen" Yang replied cheekily, satisfied that she had won that particular encounter, only to shrink a little under the glare that Weiss leveled at her. Even without her powers, that glare would have been enough to freeze Yang's blood solid. It was the glare of someone who would not hesitate to kill; whose hands had already been drenched in blood from millennia long since passed. It promised vengeance; painful, bloody and thorough.

Weiss walked away, stopping her generation of the cold as she did so, and sat down on the couch. Without looking at Yang she called out "I'm going to be meditating for several hours. Don't touch or bother me."

Since Yang planned to be out of the apartment anyway, that suited her just fine. Pulling up Pyrrha's contact on her phone, she agreed to meet her at the grocery store in an hour. Message sent, Yang locked the phone with a smile as she considered her rather fortuitous turn of events. It seemed that living with goddesses, even ones that wanted to kill you, had its benefits.

* * *

 **It wouldn't be freezerburn if they didn't nearly kill each other 6 times before breakfast.**

 **So what do you readers think of Weiss and Yang so far? Love em or hate em, it's always wonderful to hear people's opinions.**

 **Feedback is always appreciated, good, bad or anything in between. Hope you guys enjoyed!**


	3. Coming to Terms

**Got a few more story recommendations, for all you Freezerburn and Ladybug Lovers**

 **It's Our Hearts that Make the Beat by meislovely (61,000 words) RWBY Rock!AU. Whatever you're doing right now, drop it and read this story. Ignore friends, ignore family, ignore food and water and sleep and READ THIS FIC.**

 **Survival of the Deadliest by axinite15. Ruby has giant, murderous dogs that tear racists to pieces. Enough said.**

 **And for all you beautiful, glorious RubyxEmrald shippers, check out Competition by NarfoOnTheNet.**

Like all large shopping centers, grocery stores were rather loud places, filled with a near endless cacophony generated by shoppers coming and going at all hours of the day. A noise utterly unlike concerts or assemblies, where one massive source is spread outward to a waiting, mostly silent crowd. Here a thousand tiny buzzes each contributed their own small piece to the overall pandemonium of hundreds of crazed shoppers packed into a too small location. Each person generated a unique sound, clashing with all those around it to be heard, to be recognized as important. Most of them were short lived, the massive overall clamor canceling out all but the strongest or loudest booms and bangs.

The sound of a slap was one such sound, rebounding throughout the aisle and bleeding out into the store in general, heard by over half of the inhabitants. The echo made several confused shoppers turn their heads in concern, only to realize seconds later that they didn't actually care. As they turned back to their tedious gathering of packaged food, Yang shouted out "What the fuck Pyrrha?"

Pyrrha, her face showing endless patience, responded for what felt like the thousandth time "Yang, what did we agree on?"

Yang, already knowing where the conversation was going to go, responded "That you had total control over my food buying habits"

"And why exactly is that?"

A loud sigh echoed out as Yang slowly responded "Because I ate nothing but frozen pizza for an entire month."

"Because you ate nothing but frozen pizza for an entire month" Pyrrha repeated, as if Yang had already forgotten what she had just said, and continued "And what was the exact agreement we came to?"

"That I am allowed two junk food items per week." Yang responded quickly. "But"

Another smack rang out, impacting the back of Yang's now severely abused head, before Pyrrha said "And what did YOU tell ME to do whenever you tried to take more than your allotted amount?"

"I told you to smack me, a decision I have regretted ever since." Yang replied testily, holding her still throbbing head in both hands.

"Exactly" Pyrrha responded, reaching into Yang's cart and grabbing the packet of chips she had tried, and failed miserably, to hide from the redhead's eagle eyed gaze. Pyrrha picked up the bag gingerly, holding it as far from her body as possible, as if afraid that the trans-fats and high calorie count would seep through the plastic and infect her body. Giving the bag one last dirty look, she flung it back onto the shelves with the rest of the processed garbage.

Having once again corrected the blonde's diet Pyrrha and Yang continued through the grocery store, occasionally stopping to grab items from Pyrrha's "approved food" list off the shelves. In keeping with her overall healthy life style, most of their items were vegetables, fruit and carbs. Meat, being both expensive and time consuming to prepare, was kept to a minimum, their protein needs replaced by a variety of nuts.

Thankfully several of Yang's favorite or necessary items were on Pyrrha's acceptable list, namely peanut butter, coffee and alcohol. The coffee was allowed because even Pyrrha needed the occasional dose of caffeine to survive, and peanut butter on the condition that it was consumed with fruit. The alcohol….was another matter entirely. Pyrrha had tried to prevent Yang from buying alcohol the first time they went shopping together. The argument that followed had resulted in Yang being subdued and both of them being removed from the store in handcuffs.

After the incident, Pyrrha grew to tolerate Yang's increasingly destructive drinking habits and Yang learned to ignore the death glares Pyrrha sent her every time she showed up to a class hungover. It was an arrangement neither of them were happy with, but until something drastic happened it wasn't likely to change. Thankfully their friendship endured, thanks to a shared affection and concern for the other strong enough to endure the occasional eardrum rupturing argument.

Thankfully, no argument broke out that day, instead the girls chatted as they wandered the aisles. Yang spent most of her time complaining about the various professors her and Pyrrha shared. Perhaps the easiest to gripe about was their history teacher, Professor Port. The elderly man had a splendid gray mustache, passed down through generations of his family. A fact he never failed to mention at least 50 times per class, as well as any number of ridiculous or insane exploits of his forbearers.

The only other professor they shared was for calculus, taught by the over-caffeinated Professor Oobleck. While clearly an expert in his field, he often spoke so fast and changed topics so abruptly that most students had trouble keeping up, Yang included. Thankfully Pyrrha was able to understand his rapid fire communication, leading to Yang constantly begging her for notes.

But that was where the similarities ended. As for the rest of it, well

"In my professional opinion, you're more suited to garbage collecting then taking care of children." Pyrrha taunted, a mischievous smile on her face.

"And you should have been a cop; you already have a love of handcuffing people." Yang countered as always, enjoying their little game.

"It's a passion, not a calling dearie. And you know I'm right, I'm honestly surprised Ruby didn't run away every time you babysat her."

"And your patients won't last five minutes in your so called care before throwing themselves out the window."

Yang paused, waiting to hear another of Pyrrha's comebacks. When none was forthcoming, she turned to see a sad look on Pyrrha's face, tears building in her eyes.

In a small voice she called out "Too far Yang."

Realizing that she was right, Yang made to pull her into a hug, only to hear the all too familiar sound of a *schink* as a cold piece of metal locked around one of her wrists. Pyrrha backed away from Yang, giving the blonde a once over before saying "Yep, you always did look better in handcuffs."

"God damn it, why do I always fall for that?" Yang asked, regarding the now smirking redhead opposite her.

"Because you're gullible, and I can play you like a fiddle." Pyrrha responded happily, clapping her on the shoulder as she walked by.

Yang, more amused then angry at her friends antics, followed her down the aisle with a smile on her face. Both girls took a few moments to grab a few more items, Yang taking care to make sure the handcuffs didn't knock anyting off the shelves. Silence descended on them for a few minutes, calm and peaceful, broken only by the clanks of Yang's new accessory impacting the shelves.

Temporarily finished with their searching, Yang turned to Pyrrha and said "You know I didn't mean what I said earlier Pyrrha, you're going to make a fantastic therapist."

It took her a moment, but Pyrrha eventually responded "You really think so?"

Yang walked up to her, looking directly into Pyrrha's eyes as she reaffirmed "I know so. If you can help a lost cause like me, you can help anybody."

Pyrrha smiled and wrapped Yang in a hug for a few seconds, whispering "Thank you" into the blonde's ears. After a moment they broke apart, smiling softly at each other as Pyrrha said "You know what Yang, you're right."

"I know I'm right Pyrrha, you are going to help a lot of people someday." Yang responded, belief in her friend's abilities clear in her voice.

"Oh I didn't mean that." Pyrrha responded, simultaneously grabbing Yang's wrist. Before she could do anything, the redhead had fastened the other cuff to one of the shelves, quickly darting out of the now trapped blonde's reach. Without a word she grabbed her cart and ran off, delight evident on every square inch of her face.

All Yang could do was stand there and sigh, saying to the now empty aisle "not again".

* * *

\

At the end of their shopping, Yang presented her cart for Pyrrha's inspection one last time, the redhead making careful note that Yang had her two standard "junk" items: popcorn and mint ice-cream with chocolate sauce. The popcorn was for the weekly movie nights Ruby and Blake always hosted in her room, normally some wacky comedy or over the top action.

The ice cream was for recovering from said movie nights, since even Yang couldn't drink that much that often without serious consequences for her health and grades. Instead she spent those nights listening to Sam Smith and eating several bowls of her frozen treat. The cooling mint mixed well with the sweetness of the chocolate and hints of salt from the constant stream of her tears.

Satisfied with her inspection, both girls got into one of the massively long lines separating them from the register and freedom.

Figuring that now was as good a time as any, Yang turned to Pyrrha and said in a serious tone "Pyrrha Nikos, I need to tell you something."

Pyrrha's eye's widened at Yang's use of her full name, since that always meant some sort of apocalyptic disaster had befallen the blonde. Without waiting to answer she asked "Oh god, you're pregnant aren't you."

"What?" Yang asked, temporarily stunned by Pyrrha's question

"Jesus I knew it was going to happen sooner or later" The redhead rambled on. "Do you even remember who the father is? And how are we going to be able to afford…"

"Pyrrha" Yang interrupted, halting her friend before she overloaded from stress. "What could possibly make you think that I'm pregnant? If I was any gayer I'd fart rainbows." After a moment of thought she continued "And what do you mean by we?"

"Then you're dying." Pyrrha continued, ignoring Yang entirely

"Healthy as a horse, and as stupid as one too."

"You're proposing to me, right here and now."

"As much as I would love to, we both know I couldn't afford a fake ring right now, much less a real one."

"Then what is it Yang?"

Yang paused, unsure how to go about explaining. Figuring that simple was best, she said "Pyrrha, I'm living with a goddess right now. A flesh and blood goddess."

Pyrrha studied her face as she spoke, and after a moment of internal debate responded "Wow, you weren't lying there, not even a little bit. Is she really that attractive?"

"Well she is I guess, but I don't really see how that…wait. You think I meant she's as attractive as a goddess?" Yang clarified, resisting the urge to hit her head in frustration

"Well yeah, what the hell else could you mean?" Pyrrha replied, now thoroughly confused as to what Yang was trying to tell her.

 _I guess I should start from the beginning_ Yang thought. Which technically was only earlier that day, even though it felt like a lifetime had passed since she had first met Weiss. So Yang told her the story, from the moment she woke up until Pyrrha picked her up from her apartment. Weiss's revelation of her powers, her new arrangement as chief priestess, even how she was currently using Weiss as a freezer. By the end of it Pyrrha had sobered considerably, and was now regarding her with a serious look on her face.

At a gesture from Yang signaling she was done, Pyrrha asked "Yang are you still drunk?"

"Pyrrha I'm serious. Stone sober serious. I'm living with a fucking ice creating goddess who thinks I'm her new head servant."

"Alright, whatever you say" Pyrrha replied, not believing a word out of the blonde's mouth but willing to play along. "So what's it like living with a goddess."

"Ugh, fucking terrible." Yang complained. "She's bossy, temperamental, and changes moods like she's permanently on her period. She thinks that just because she's some goddess it gives her the right to order me around like I'm her slave or something. But the worst part is"

"That you're attracted to her" Pyrrha interjected, a smug smirk on her face

"That I'm attracted to her" Yang finished, her face erupting in a massive blush once she realized what Pyrrha had tricked her into saying. Hoping to salvage some of her dignity, Yang said "No, I'm not."

"I don't have to be a psychology major to know you're lying Yang." Pyrrha replied, that damnable smirk still present on her face. Stepping closer, she leaned in close, her hot breath racing along Yang's collarbone as she whispered "And in case you've forgotten, I am _intimately_ familiar with how you act when you're turned on and trying to fight it."

Yang's blush grew even redder, if such a thing was possible, as her mind went back to the memory of that one unforgettable evening spent with Pyrrha. They had already been close friends by the time Ruby and Blake had started dating, and at the time Yang had been desperate for a way to take her mind off that miserable situation. Pyrrha had been all too happy to help at first, on the condition that they did it her way. And while the redhead's tastes were far more exotic then Yang had expected, she had thrown caution to the wind and gone along with it.

The following morning they had mutually agreed on two things. That what had transpired would never happen again, and that it wouldn't interfere with their friendship. Despite their fears, if anything it had only made it stronger. They had both revealed secrets that night, truths hidden for fear of derision and ridicule from friends and family. The pain they felt in their hearts, openly exposed and shared, only served to strengthen their bonds. Though an unfortunate side effect was that Pyrrha enjoyed using the memory to fluster Yang whenever she felt like embarrassing the blonde in public.

"Alright, maybe I am," Yang conceded, "but that doesn't mean anything. I thought I was attracted to you at one point, hell I thought I was attracted to Ren last year. I don't see why this is any different."

"You mean besides the fact that you're living with her?" Pyrrha countered smugly. "You were using me as a distraction, nothing more. As for Ren, you were using him to test if you might be able to play both sides of the field. And remember how that worked out?"

"I don't know what you're talking about" Yang said evasively, her eyes shifting to the left. "Things worked out fine between us, we see each other in class all the time."

"Maybe they're fine now, but remember what happened right after you broke up with him? He didn't speak for a week, not even to Nora. Nora! He was so depressed he even neglected to make her birthday pancakes."

Yang's body shuddered involuntarily, her muscles remembering quite clearly what the shorter girl's revenge even as her mind tried and failed to blot out the memory.

Pyrrha, sensing weakness, pressed her advantage by saying "She tazered you twice, tied you to a chair and almost broke your knees with a sledgehammer. Remember that? And don't even get me started on the sloths."

"Ok, ok, I get it. I fucked that one up royally." Yang screeched, interrupting the redhead before she unearthed memories best left forgotten, preferably forever. "What's your point with all this?"

My point is that I'm worried about you Yang." Pyrrha said, her voice now soft, laced with concern for her friend. "Every time you like somebody, or even think that you do, you self-sabotage the relationship as soon as it starts, if it even gets that far. You don't let anyone get close, because you're still in love with Blake."

Yang wanted to say something, deny every painful word that was coming out of Pyrrha's mouth, but it would have been nothing but lies. She wasn't over Blake, if anything it was worse than ever. And both of them knew it.

"But if what you're telling me is true, this time you can't just ignore the problem and hope it goes away. Because this time she not only lives with you, she needs you to survive. So you can't just shut her out."

Yang was suddenly tired, as if her body and mind just noticed the weight of all of her self-imposed burdens. Love for a friend that would go forever unrequited, attraction to a goddess that hated her guts, and more than a little self-hatred to bind it all together, among other things.

Turning to Pyrrha she asked in a small, pleading voice "What am I supposed to do?"

Pyrrha smiled, joy breaking out across her face, as she answered "As a therapist-in-training, I recommend that you talk with her. As in sit down and have a serious discussion, no angry shouting or flinging insults back and forth. You'd be amazed how many issues can be resolved by simply working on your communication as a couple."

She paused for a moment, giving Yang time to comment on her little slip of the tongue or complain about her advice. But the blonde merely nodded, prompting her to continue "As your friend, I'm telling you to not fight your feelings. Don't ignore them, don't try to get rid of them. Just accept them for what they are."

"And then what?"

"See what happens. If you really do like her, the burning sensation you feel now will grow, erupting into a massive inferno that consumes you every waking moment. If not, then it will fade away, and eventually die out. Either way, fate will guide you as it wishes."

"Pyrrha, you know I don't believe in superstitious crap like fate. And you of all people know you don't need to lecture me on love." Yang said. Having almost reached the front of the line, Yang turned away from Pyrrha and started placing her food on the conveyor belt so the cashier could ring her up.

She missed the sad smile on Pyrrha's face, concern for Yang evident in her eyes. Because Pyrrha wondered just how much of what her misguided, broken friend felt for Blake was actually love, and how much of it was something else. Something much worse.

* * *

\

Being of the "one trip or no trip" school of thought, Yang took her time lugging all seven of her bags, three per arm and one in her mouth, up the three flights of stairs that separated her from where Pyrrha dropped her off and home. Upon arriving at her door, however, she noticed two distressful things. One, the door was slightly ajar and two, noise was emanating from her apartment.

 _Of all the times I could be robbed_ Yang thought, taking a few seconds to lower the bags to the floor. Arms raised, fists clenched tight, she opened the door leading into her apartment and charged in.

Only to almost fall over in surprise.

There sitting on her couch, nonchalantly sipping coffee, was her erstwhile roommate, her sister and her best friend. Apparently they were engaged in the middle of story time, based on Ruby's animated hand gestures and the redness of her face that only happened from lack of oxygen. Blake was sitting next to her, hand clamped over her mouth to muffle giggles as tears streamed down her face. Weiss had her back to Yang, so she couldn't see her expression, but based on her shaking shoulders she was fighting the laugher as hard as Blake

Having recovered from the initial shock of her apartment not being robbed, Yang's brain now noticed some rather important pieces of information. First and foremost was how close Blake and Ruby were. Blake enjoyed physical contact the same way cats enjoyed taking baths; a loathed but occasionally necessary activity to be completed as fast as possible and only grudgingly at best. Even Yang's hugs were only tolerated, and if it went on for longer than a few seconds Blake would begin to grow restless, praying for Yang to end it as fast as possible

And yet there she was, cuddling with Ruby on the couch. Her arms wrapped along her sister's midsection, gently but firmly curling in possessively. Tight enough for Ruby to know that Blake wanted her there, but at the same time loose enough that the smaller girl could move away whenever she wished. Her mouth was perfectly positioned at the curve of Ruby's ear to whisper sweet and gentle words of love and affection, and based on how red one ear was compared to the other Blake had been doing so for quite some time.

The worst part, however, was how well the two of them fit together, the small, constant adjustments they made as one or the other shifted. How Ruby instinctively leaned forward whenever Blake needed to re-adjust on the couch. How Blake sensed the rising and falling of Ruby's chest, her linked arms moving up or down in time with the younger girl's breathing. And just how relaxed the two of them were in each other's presence, perfectly relaxed.

The sight was the emotional equivalent of a sledgehammer, smashing through the already weakened walls of Yang's fragile psyche. The sight before her showed just how much their relationship had progressed, if Blake was not only comfortable with but actively seeking out physical contact. It was actually physically painful for Yang to look at, and she averted her eyes, instead staring at the apartment's other occupant.

The second piece of information her brain shot at her, as if trying to balance out suffering with elation, was that Weiss was no longer clad in her battle armor. Instead she was wearing Yang's favorite clothing, a yellow hoodie with the accompanying purple Veil school emblem emblazoned on the front and an old, well-worn pair of jeans. Part of Yang was pissed at her for wearing them without asking, but most of her was enjoying the sight of the goddess in her clothes. Enjoying it way, way too much.

Her eyes drank in the sight of Weiss wearing her colors. Of how the far too large sweater was falling off her left side, exposing just enough shoulder and arm to reveal that Weiss was clearly not wearing anything underneath. Or how the jeans, ripped by time, love and occasional abuse, revealed patches of the goddess's alabaster white skin. The small patches contrast between purest white and faded blue were more than enough to make Yang want more, much more.

But perhaps the biggest shock of all was Weiss. Because she was laughing. A high, dainty laugh, perfectly fitting the uptight goddess. A laugh that could be used to scorn those displeasing her, to let the useless parasites of society know exactly how small they were in her eyes. But in this case it rang out like the sweetest music, filling Yang's ears with the most pleasing sound she had ever heard, something she could hear every second of every day, from now until the end of time itself. Warm and inviting, like the first winds of spring coming in after a long, cold winter. Soft but gentle, it blew away the darkness in Yang's heart, leaving her feeling more at peace with her life then she had been in what felt like forever.

She hated Weiss for that, hated that such small actions had such a large effect on her.

Ruby was the first to notice her and cried out "You're back," as she slipped out of Blake's arms and ran towards her sister. She collided with Yang, the sheer strength behind her hug forcing Yang to take several steps back, lest she lost her balance and tumble to the ground. Blake called out a "hello" from the couch, the raven haired beauty not in any hurry to move from her clearly comfortable location.

Once she got her breath back, Yang said "Geez Rubes, it's only been a day."

"I know, but I still missed you. And I'm allowed to want to see you, younger sister privileges."

 _And I'm allowed to want to be you_ Yang thought, mentally smacking herself the second she recognized the terrible idea her brain had come up with. _Now is not the time, brain._

"Yang, why didn't you tell us yesterday that you'd gotten a new roommate?" Ruby asked, regarding Yang with a confused expression on her face.

Yang, now thoroughly confused, replied "What are you talking about, I don't have a rooWOAH."

Weiss, appearing from nowhere, interrupted Yang with one swift application of her ice cold hands. Now free to speak, she said "Here, let me help you with those bags. After all, that's what good _roommates_ do for each other."

Yang, now catching on to the game she was playing, said "Thanks for that, _roommate."_ She was careful to keep her face calm until both she and Weiss moved into the hallway. The second Ruby could no longer see her, she let her anger harden her features.

Throwing Weiss the coldest glare she could muster, Yang whispered "What the hell is going on. Why is my sister here, why do they think you're my roommate and why are you wearing my clothes?"

Weiss shot her a glare of her own, her anger matching if not surpassing Yang's, and whispered back "She had a spare key and let herself in, what was I supposed to do? They assumed I was your roommate and I played along."

"Well why didn't you just tell them you were a goddess and freeze their drinks or something?"

"Because there are rules, you fucking idiot. And now would be the worst possible moment to piss off the Jailers, for both our sakes."

"Wait, Jailers?" Yang asked, now worried about this seemingly important piece of information Weiss neglected to tell her. "What the hell are"

"Hey do you guys need any help out there?" Ruby called out, her voice interrupting Yang mid rant and reminding them why they were out there in the first place.

Weiss sighed heavily, anger melting off her face. For a second she appeared lost in thought, brows furrowed in concentration, before she turned to Yang and pleaded "Look, just play along, alright. They cannot find out, not like this. Not yet. Otherwise all of us are as good as dead."

Yang felt her anger spike, fury racing through her veins at the mere thought of her sister being in danger. Advancing on Weiss until their faces were mere inches apart, she said "If you hurt Ruby, I swear to fucking god I will"

"Which one? You have to be specific, there are thousands of them." Weiss interrupted, plowing ahead before Yang could start talking again. "Look, if you just play along until they leave, I promise nothing will happen to them."

Yang, not fully trusting her, spat out "Swear it."

Weiss regarded her for a second, grudging respect for Yang now evident on her face. "I swear by my power, my name and the purest winter white, no harm will come to your sister. I vow by the _acilgicel,_ _I will do everything I can to keep her alive. As long as you do your part and keep your fucking mouth shut." Weiss said her vow slowly, quietly, her words measured and clipped. As if she was weighing each syllable coming out of her mouth, ensuring it was said to her exact needs._

 _Yang listened quietly, heard the grave promise in her tone and saw the strength projected in the shorter girl's gaze. Against her better judgement, she trusted Weiss._ _I really hope Pyrrha was right about this one_ _._

 _"Fine" Yang eventually said. "Put these on the counter next to the fridge. I need to change, then formally introduce you, roommate."_

 _As Yang turned to pick up her share of the grocery bags, she failed to notice the faint smile that graced the goddess's lips at her words. Now slightly filled with elation, Weiss bent down to help her troubled priestess with her task. As each went back into the apartment, consumed with their own thoughts, they couldn't help but feel like this was a first step for the both of them. An acknowledgement that, for better or worse, they were well and truly stuck together._

 _And against their best efforts, both of them were slowly growing to tolerate their new arrangements._

 **Blake will get the chance to speak next chapter, I promise.**

 **Error's will be addressed tomorrow night, or sooner if people point specific things out**

 **Feedback is always appreciated, good, bad or anything in between. Hope you guys enjoyed!**


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